


Watch Out, There's a Thief About!

by Junkfoodmonkey



Category: The A-Team (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24179698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Junkfoodmonkey/pseuds/Junkfoodmonkey
Summary: You can't trust anyone...
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	Watch Out, There's a Thief About!

“It’s nearly dinnertime.” Hannibal glanced at his watch as the van neared his current home. “You guys want to eat at my place, catch the game?”

“Can we have pizza?” Murdock asked. “Please, please, please, please, please, please.”

Face rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Dad, can we get pizza?” Hannibal smirked and BA growled.

“Okay, kids. Pizza it is. There’s a new place I tried last week, real good. I’ve got a card with their number on right here in my…” He stopped, one hand in his pocket where his wallet wasn’t.

“Face, do you by any chance…?”

“Oh, sorry, Hannibal.” Face took a wallet out of his inside pocket. It was blue nylon and had a picture of Spiderman on it. “Oh, that’s Murdock’s.”

“Huh?” Murdock took the wallet, “When the heck did you…?”

“Ah, BA, there you go…”

“What? You took mine?”

“And…” He took one last wallet from his jacket pocket, held it up. “I think this one is yours, Colonel.”

“Face, you know I hate it when you do that.”

“I have to keep in practice,” Face protested. “It’s like a pianist doing scales. I have to hone my skills every day.”

“But why do you have to hone them on us?”

“Well, you’re just around all the time. Plus if you catch me you’re not going to break my hands.”

“Don’t put money on that, sucker.”

“Sorry, BA.”

“He’s right, Hannibal, he has to practice,” Murdock said, earning a smile from Face for the support.

“I guess,” Hannibal conceded. “Okay, Face, keep practising.”

“How else will he get to Carnegie Hall?” Murdock asked with a grin.

“He’d scam a limo,” BA muttered.

“So what’s the equivalent of Carnegie Hall for a pickpocket, Face?” Hannibal asked. “Whose is the top pocket to pick? The President?”

“President? Nah, I mean, all due respect, but even he’s just another mark after all. It’s gotta be another pro.” He looked thoughtful for a while. “I think for me it would have to be Wang Po.”

“Wang Po?”

“Yeah, he worked L.A. Chinatown about fifteen years ago. He was so good that he could steal the fillings out of your teeth, while showing you a card trick so brilliant it made you happy you’d been robbed. They called him something in Chinese that meant ‘ghost hand’.”

“Nice. So what’s Mr Po doing now?”

“Well, last I heard, three to five years with time off for good behaviour.”

“Ah, so he wasn’t that good after all.”

“Everyone gets old, Hannibal,” Face said, defensively.

“Maybe he didn’t keep practising,” Murdock said. Face nodded pointing at Murdock and looking at Hannibal.

“Yeah.” Face sighed. “But in his day, he was the master. He had the fastest hand in the business.”

“Hand?” Hannibal frowned.

“Yeah, didn’t I mention he only had one arm? Ah, here we are.” BA parked the van in front of Hannibal’s place. Face went to slide open the side door, but Hannibal grabbed the handle and kept it closed.

“Um, Face, you think I didn’t notice, in that storm of misdirection, that you never actually gave me my wallet back?”

Face looked chagrined, then he laughed.

“You’re too sharp for me, Hannibal.” He put Hannibal’s wallet into the Colonel’s left hand, then closed Hannibal’s hand around it, using both of his own. “Hang on to it tight, you can’t trust anyone, you know.” Then he gave Hannibal a beaming smile, let go and hopped out of the van.

Hannibal chuckled and put his wallet away in his pocket.

“Right, now what time we eating?” He looked at his… bare wrist.

“Face!”


End file.
